


Gone I Would Be If You Weren't Here to Stop Me

by The_Moon_Writer



Series: This Is Not How You Hit On Your Other Self (but oh, does he try anyways) [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aftertale, Alternate Universe - Reapertale, M/M, Minor Violence, Police Criminal AU, Solitary Confinement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Moon_Writer/pseuds/The_Moon_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“As I said before...I’ve been serving in prisons for 45,000 years…” Geno mumbled. “I know my way around things.”</p>
<p>“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind.” Death turned to look at him completely, putting his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrow ridge. “And while I admire your ambition of getting out of here--honestly, I do--I kind of question your mental state as a whole.”</p>
<p>In which Geno has a plan and Death interferes with said plan. And kinda-sorta-maybe-ish does a bit of flirting. Not that he'll directly admit it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone I Would Be If You Weren't Here to Stop Me

**Author's Note:**

> inspired and based on this prompt: "I admire your ambition, but question your mental state." Death to Geno (cause why not)  
> i...i don't know what happened. i just picked a prompt, typed a /very/ brief overview of the fic, and...it kinda got offtrack and didn't exactly end up as i technically planned. i hope it just means i was just making them as in character as possible, but??? i feel like it shouldn't be like this. but whatever, i'm giving it to you guys now, but /please/ tell me if something doesn't make sense. yes, there is, again, no romance, but shhhhh. it seems like i'm not that go-to girl for romance. or cursing. i'm not creative. for shame, tbh.  
> for @nekophy on tumblr

There were many things wrong with his plan. Of course, that didn’t mean Geno wasn’t going to _try_. It might be the only way out of this hell-hole he was suddenly thrust in, anyhow.

But the plan...wasn’t very simple, honestly. It involved a lot of steps that would definitely take some time to truly develop into something worthwhile, but Geno was a skeleton of patience and wit. The prison staff seemed to already be so lazy when it comes to their jobs, anyway, so it should be quick and easy, if Geno had to wager his chances.

So far, he had about--Geno calculated the numbers in his head as quickly as he could--68.5% of the items he needed before phase one would be complete. And, again, it shouldn’t be so hard to get the rest of it. Half of the items he now needed were easy to spot on a day-to-day basis. The only hard part after that is locating the other half. Easy, easy, _easy_.

But as Geno lifted a small item from his hidden pile--tweaking it so he wouldn’t need to in the future--there was a soft, lazy knock on the left wall near his prison bars.

Now, before anything else, it must be known that it was _two o’clock_ in the _freakin morning_. It was the one of the only times where he would be able to plan in secret, he had reasoned to himself. And even though he can be (quite) paranoid, he admitted, he still forced himself to relax so he could focus clearly.

So to expect such a knock from the outside of his cell...well, needless to say, he freaked out. The item in his hand was thrown into the air by the jolt, and it fell with a harsh clatter on the somewhat dirty gray floor. Geno felt a violent shudder wrack his frame and gave a loud yelp right after at the sudden chillness.

He stared, unblinkingly, at the ground in anguish. A low snicker sounded throughout the cell, and he snapped his head toward the prison bars. Outside, the chief police was grinning at him, eyes filled with mirth as he put his hands over his teeth to keep himself from laughing outright.

Geno narrowed his eyes at him. “What are you doing here? Isn’t it past your bedtime or something?”

“I should say the same to you,” Death remarked, looking down to reach for his keys. Geno watched warily as Death found the right key and slid it easily in the keyhole. He opened the door smoothly and walked in, closing it along the way. “But just for you, sweetheart, I’ll tell you why.” He smiled cheekily.

“Don’t _ever_ call me a fucking sweetheart,” Geno growled.

“Sure thing, sweetie.” Death ducked as a round object sailed over him. He laughed quietly, putting his hands up in a submissive gesture. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Anyway, I usually make rounds around the prison every two weeks or so,” he said. “I gotta do my job, you know.”

“Oh, _really_?” Geno sarcastically said, finally getting up to retrieve the thing he was messing with before the officer came. “ _Huh_ , I thought you were just being an absolute _creep_ or something, but that explains _so much_.”

If Death knew Geno was mocking him, he didn’t comment. He walked over to Geno (ignoring his protests (and hisses), that bastard) and looked down, face impassive. “Now,” he said softly, “what are _you_ doing up? Almost everyone else is asleep but you.”

_Almost everyone?_ Geno kept the question to himself and instead answer stiffly, “I think that’s none of your business, asshole.”

“Touche, maybe, but you _are_ in _my_ prison,” Death pointed out casually. “I can easily knock you down a notch if I so choose. You don’t seem like you’re fit for a fight, either.” He gestured toward the red slash on Geno’s chest. Geno glanced down to catch his drift, but then immediately glared at Death, cheek bones burning.

“That happened a long time ago. I’m completely fine.”

“Hm. Maybe. Magic works in odd ways.” Death shrugged. “Point is, you gotta tell me. I’m not afraid to use my power against you, no matter how annoyingly cute you may be.”

Geno spluttered. If he wasn’t angry before, he was now. “ _Cute?!_ Argh, I just--!” Geno forced himself to shut up, snapping his jaw closed. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to control his emotions. Like that jerk of an officer said: it wasn’t a good idea to fight back--not like this. He knows when to finally stop. He’s far more intelligent than that. “Ugh, _fine_. _Here._ ”

He got up, and within a few seconds, he fully got his hidden stash out in the open. Geno glowered at the floor as Death started to poke around the small mountain of unrecognizable junk, picking something up and examining it before putting it back down again. He said, sounding awed, “Wow, I can’t believe you were able to do this in such a short amount of time.”

“As I said before...I’ve been serving in prisons for 45,000 years…” Geno mumbled. “I know my way around things.”

“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind.” Death turned to look at him completely, putting his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrow ridge. “And while I admire your ambition of getting out of here--honestly, I do--I kind of question your mental state as a whole.”

“What--you don’t think I can do it?” Geno challenged, crossing his arms.

“Of course I think you can.” Death leaned against the wall. “I’ve seen your reports, after all. It’s just not wise to do it here.”

“You can’t stop me from trying.”

Then Death looked down, face hidden behind his hat. “...Maybe I can,” he murmured, raising a hand to rest it on his chin softly, almost like he was thinking.

Geno wanted to laugh at that. Instead, he snorted lightly, covering his teeth behind his left hand, and said, “Excuse me?”

Death waved at Geno dismissively, getting off the wall and walking back to the cell door, slightly hunched forward. “Oh, nothing--nothing at all. Just a thought.”

“Oh, so you can get into _my_ private affairs, but I can’t get into _yours_?” Geno retorted, shaking in anger. “Well, isn’t that a bit _rude_?”

“I never did say I was nice,” Death responded. He snapped his phalanges, and suddenly, the pile of things Geno had for his escape vanished into thin air.

So much for being a patient and clever skeleton. Geno practically _flew_ toward Death in his rage. The officer was quick, though, and dodge neatly. When Geno was on the ground again and turning, ready to throttle Death’s throat, he felt a heavy presence on his soul. He was slammed into a wall, and after getting over the disoriented feeling, struggled against the magical restraints as Death opened the cell door, closed it, and locked it.

“My prison, Geno. Remember that,” Death advised, smirking. He wagged a finger at Geno mockingly. “You aren’t allowed to break out until your time is up. That’s my only rule for you." He paused, reconsidering. "For now, anyway--if you decide to go berserk on anyone, there might be consequences, so I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Argh! You're _such_ a _complete_  asshole, you know that?” Geno snarled, glaring daggers.

“I don’t try to be one, but some people call me that, yeah,” Death said. He started to walk away, shoes clicking when they contact the floor, and Geno fell to the floor with a small cry of alarm as the restraints holding him up vanished. “Have a good night, _sweetie_ ,” he cooed, chuckling lightly. Geno listened as the echoes of his footsteps grew softer and softer. Finally, silence filled the hallway and his cell.

That cheeky bastard wants to play dirty, huh? Fine. _He’ll play dirty._

**Author's Note:**

> again, that did not go as planned. i really wonder if i did okay with them, haha.  
> what was his plan? that's up to you, really. all i can say is that it was both complicated and stupid. as well as reckless.  
> so, it seems like i still plan to write more afterdeath stuff. but I'm going to be focusing on some other stuff before returning to these dorks  
> please tell me if something is not right, or if they're ooc. it'll mean a lot to me. i mean, they say a character writes themselves, but...i get really self-conscious when something unexpected happens in my stories. this is one of those times.  
> thank you for reading!


End file.
